


Your Inner Child

by koalawhisperer



Series: Jimlock Fluff [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Autumn, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2462003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalawhisperer/pseuds/koalawhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A leaf pile!" Jim looked at Sherlock as though he’d just set up the most complicated, most brilliant case yet, but his look quickly fell into something slightly disappointed when Sherlock gave him a quizzical one in return. </p><p>"And what, pray tell, would a leaf pile have to do with anything? What would we do with it? It’s rather dull just standing there and looking at it."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Inner Child

**Author's Note:**

> From this Tumblr prompt - Imagine Sherlock and Jim building a big pile of leaves and jumping in it.

Autumn. Quite possibly Jim’s favourite season, though he didn’t dare tell anyone outside of Sherlock. After all, what self-respecting consulting criminal admitted to enjoying the colours of the leaves, the cooler evenings, and the new flavours that the season brought? Certainly not Jim. He did have to keep up a cold, distant persona, and enjoying autumn with all of its rather sentimental nature and warm, toasty flavours and colours went exactly against that. His admitting that he loved autumn had gone surprisingly well with Sherlock. The detective did have an eye for beauty, and the colours were certainly beautiful, and he also loathed warm temperatures, so even the weather was perfect. Yet another thing they had in common, it seemed.

One particular autumn day found Jim standing at the window while Sherlock performed a Vivaldi sonata — “Autumn”, appropriately enough. It was quite a picturesque scene, Sherlock’s lithe and graceful form swaying with his music as Jim gazed at the swirling, tumbling, falling leaves in their reds, oranges, and yellows. No-one would guess that they were who they were, which was the beautiful thing about it. They got to reveal their true selves without anyone else knowing Sherlock and Jim were both masters of disguise, and what was disguise if not a self-portrait? As Jim listened and watched, an idea began to blossom in his mind as he watched piles of leaves form. He hadn’t done it since he was a child, back when things were quite a bit more innocent. He gave Sherlock a surreptitious look as the detective brought the sonata to an end. Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he carefully put his precious Stradivarius — a gift from Jim on his last birthday — into the case.

"I know that look," Sherlock said. "You’ve had an idea."

"And, as most of my ideas are, it’s brilliant," Jim said happily, grinning widely at Sherlock.

"You had my attention at ‘brilliant’," Sherlock said lightly as he closed the violin’s case and turned back to Jim.

"A leaf pile!" Jim looked at Sherlock as though he’d just set up the most complicated, most brilliant case yet, but his look quickly fell into something slightly disappointed when Sherlock gave him a quizzical one in return. 

"And what, pray tell, would a leaf pile have to do with anything? What would we do with it? It’s rather dull just standing there and looking at it."

"No, you idiot," Jim retorted, earning him a sharp frown from Sherlock. "We’re not going to just  _look_  at it. We’re going to jump in it!”

"Jump in it? It sounds like a rather childish thing to do. We are adults."

"Yes, I’m well aware of it. You showed me just how  _adult_  you are last night,” Jim teased with a slight smirk. “But come on. We’re quite serious two-thirds of the time.” 

"And?" 

“ _And_ , it would do you some good to indulge your inner child. Don’t say a word about not having one, I know good and well that you have one. Now come on. We've a leaf pile to build, And don’t give me that scowl.”

Scowling since he knew he wouldn’t win the argument (once Jim had his mind set on something, it was impossible to persuade him to change it), Sherlock begrudgingly slipped into his coat and followed a very joyful Jim outside. It was admittedly hard for Sherlock to remain in a foul mood when Jim was so happy. His very, very inner romantic wanted nothing more than to see Jim happy, so his own mood was boosted when that happened. And Jim was certainly happy. His lips were stretched in a wide grin, the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly, his eyes alight and sparkling as he seemed to come alive with happiness. This was happiness in the purest form, the sort of happiness that Jim felt after Sherlock solved one of his cases or when a hit went off well. Or, on a less murderous note, when he got to enjoy his favourite season with his favourite person.

"I see you smiling," Jim said in a sing-song voice as he searched for the perfect place to build his pile of leaves. "Don’t try to hide it, honey. It suits you far too well."

Sherlock bit down on his lower lip to straighten his face, his eyes belying his attempts to remain in an ill mood. Curse Jim and his infectious good mood. He followed Jim around the yard, occasionally huffing in a feeble attempt to remain annoyed as Jim scanned each and every place he could find, only earning an ‘I know you’re faking’ sort of look from Jim. Of course, Jim would try to find the perfect one, would have some sort of mathematical formula that would lead him to his choice. That was how Jim’s mind worked, almost everything mathematical in one way or another, and Sherlock absolutely adored it. As such, his expression changed from a dour one to one of intrigue. Despite his best efforts, Sherlock began to smile. It  _was_ a nice day, sunny, not a cloud in the sky, perfectly cool temperature. Perhaps this could be enjoyable. Sherlock followed Jim around the yard, looking at each pile at least twice. It was a bit of a waste of time in Sherlock’s eyes, but if it made Jim happy, then, well, he’d tolerate it.

"Ah!" Jim said excitedly after what felt like an eternity (really, it was only about twenty minutes). "Found it!" 

"So we’re really going to do this? I still maintain that it’s childish and a waste of time," Sherlock said as he eyed the patch of grass, slightly covered with leaves. He’d enjoyed jumping in leaves as a child, back when Redbeard had been around to do it with him, but it seemed silly as an adult. 

"Yes, we’re really going to do this," Jim replied with a rather annoyed tone. "And I maintain that it will take less than thirty seconds to jump. Hardly a waste of time. Now, come on. Humour me. I went to that ridiculous concert that you wanted to attend last week, you can at least do this for me."

"Beethoven is not ridiculous."

"Load of hammering on piano keys. Hardly anything intellectual about it. Nothing like Bach’s counterpoint. Now  _that_  is a genius.”

"Hmph."

Jim shook his head to end the impromptu discussion of classical music and looked up at Sherlock, pulling out the trick that he knew always got the detective to give him his way. His puppy eyes. It was a dirty trick, but Jim wasn't exactly a clean person. He looked up with an almost sad expression, internally grinning when Sherlock gave a groan and shook his head. That always meant that Jim had won whatever discussion they’d been having, and Jim was always delighted when he won. 

"Not that, you know I can’t resist that," Sherlock said. "That's not fair at all."

"Exactly," Jim said delightedly, grinning at Sherlock as he took his partner’s hand again and kept a tight grip. "Besides. One, since when do I play fair, and two, I can always make it better for you…" His tone slipped into a more flirtatious one, his eyes glinting mischeviously as Sherlock got the gist of what he was suggesting.

"You always do."

"Mm, I know. It’s a talent. Now. Get a rake and help me with this. I'm certainly not doing it on my own."

"Fine."

Sherlock followed Jim to the shed and grabbed one of two rakes, shaking his head. Oh, they were quite a sight. Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes, two people who swore that they were above such ordinary things,  _raking the yard_ and building a leaf pile. But, Jim was excited, and Sherlock supposed that was all that mattered. The two of them began to rake the area around them, quickly amassing a rather impressive pile of leaves, one that came halfway up to Sherlock's knees. Jim studied it carefully for a few moments, walking around it a few times to make sure that it was absolutely perfect. Of course, Jim would accept nothing less than perfection. Once he deemed it perfect, Jim returned to Sherlock's side and took his hand, smiling excitedly up at his partner. Sherlock had to admit, there was a childish sort of excitement about it. Perhaps it  _was_ good to indulge one's inner child every now and then.  _  
_

"Okay," Jim said. "On the count of three, we’re going to jump. One…two… three!"

As soon as Jim finished counting, the two of them jumped as high as they could into the pile of leaves, sending a cascade of reds, oranges, and yellows flying out around them. Sherlock looked to his right and saw Jim grinning as widely as he could and heard him laughing joyously. Much to his surprise, he was laughing as well. And smiling. Unable to resist, Sherlock held Jim’s face in his hands and planted a firm yet affectionate kiss on his lips, beaming as they stood up and dusted themselves off. Sherlock pulled all sorts of leaves from Jim’s thick hair, and his own curls had become rather like a nest, they were so full of leaves. 

"See?" Jim said as he affectionately pulled leaves off of Sherlock’s body and tossed them aside. "That wasn’t so bad, hm?"

"No…" Sherlock said with a grin. "It was actually quite…well, fun. You were right."  
  
"As I usually am," Jim laughed as he finished removing leaves from both himself and Sherlock. "Now…how about we do that again and I make it even more fun and a little less childish?"

Sherlock didn’t need to be a master of deduction to know just what Jim meant by that. 


End file.
